Adapted from: Outlooks & Insights by Rabbi Zev Leff

וְלָקַחְתָּ מֵרֵאשִׁית כָּל פְּרִי הָאֲדָמָה אֲשֶׁר תָּבִיא מֵאַרְצְךָ אֲשֶׁר ה’ אֱלֹקֶיךָ נֹתֵן לָךְ וְשַׂמְתָּ בַטֶּנֶא וְהָלַכְתָּ אֶל הַמָּקוֹם אֲשֶׁר יִבְחַר ה’ אֱלֹקֶיךָ לְשַׁכֵּן שְׁמוֹ שָׁם — 

You shall take of the first of every fruit of the ground that you bring in from your Land that Hashem, your G-d, gives you, and you shall put it in a basket and go to the place that Hashem, your G-d, will choose, to make His Name rest there (Devarim 26:2)

The Torah commands us to take the first fruits and bring them to the Kohen as a thanksgiving offering to Hashem. Elsewhere we are enjoined to dedicate all our firsts to Hashem – the first shearings of the wool, the first of the dough, the firstborn of man and animal, etc. Why did the Torah not command us to offer the best of our produce and not the first?

The importance of the first lies in the fact that it is the root and foundation of all that follows. The foundation of a building must be totally free of imperfections. A hairline crack in the foundation endangers the entire building, whereas that same crack in a wall on the fourth floor would not be significant. Similarly, with respect to everything having to do with kedushah, the beginning must be holy and pure if holiness and purity is to emanate from it. Any imperfection in the root will manifest itself a hundredfold in what grows out of it. Therefore, we dedicate all firsts to Hashem to firmly establish the foundation and root of all that follows.

The Gemara (Bava Metzia 85b) relates that when R’ Chiya reintroduced Torah in a generation in which it had been forgotten, he began by planting flax. From the flax he made nets to capture deer. Upon the skins of those deer he wrote the Five Books of the Torah. He would then travel from town to town teaching Torah to five boys in each town. With each he learned one book of Chumash. To six older boys he taught one order of Mishnah each. Each then taught the others what he had learned, and in this way, Torah was once again established. 

Why was it necessary for R’ Chiya to plant the flax and make the nets. Couldn’t he have bought these? The answer is that every new beginning is the construction of a foundation. Only if every step is taken with holy and pure intentions will the result be holy and pure. 

During the Ten Days of Repentance from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur, it is customary to be extra stringent in one’s observance of mitzvos. Thus even one who is not usually strict about eating kosher bread baked by a non-Jewish baker (pas palter) should nevertheless be strict during that period. At first glance this practice seems difficult to understand, for it applies even to a person who intends to eat pas palter the rest of the year. Are we trying to fool Hashem into thinking we are more pious than we actually are in order to secure a favorable judgment?

The significance of this conduct lies in the fact that Rosh Hashanah is not just the beginning of the year, but reishis hashanah — the foundation and root of the year. Each of these ten days must be treated as firsts, dedicated to Hashem in purity and holiness. Hence the extra stringencies, the more intense davening and learning, are not merely for show. They are designed to lay the foundation for the entire year. Even if the building of the coming year is not constructed of such quality materials, the foundation will give it strength.

Thus did the wisest of men say, tov acharis hadavar meirishiso (Koheles 7:8), which is usually translated as “The end of the matter is greater than the beginning,” but can also be understood, “A good end emanates from the beginning.”